


lovesick

by sunflower_8



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Character Death, Emetophobia, F/M, Gore??, Hanahaki Disease, Heavy Angst, It's Like Two Seconds Don't Even Worry About It, Lowercase, M/M, One Kind Of Slightly Maybe Suggestive Scene, Relationship Problems, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal actions, Unrequited Love, really sad, slow ass updates but still ass updates nonetheless, some banter, suggestive jokes, what the fuck do i even tag this shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22726891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflower_8/pseuds/sunflower_8
Summary: rantaro amami is a fucking liar.(covering up the petals isn't going to be easy, though, even for someone experienced in merciful deceit)--hanahaki AU where rantaro is in love with his friend who is in a relationship with another.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Saihara Shuichi, Harukawa Maki/Momota Kaito, Oma Kokichi/Saihara Shuichi
Comments: 69
Kudos: 174





	1. prologue - roses

_ hanahaki disease. _

_ a condition where a victim falls in unrequited love and, as a result, coughs up flower petals. it disappears if the love is returned or if the victim gets their love removed.  _

_ when i got hanahaki disease, i thought about everything that had lead me there. i thought about the people i killed, the things i had said. i reminisced on every friend i had made, every time i had failed. i thought about my parents, vague images, and wondered if they would be proud of me. i wondered if i was really meant to die to some fucking flowers.  _

_ when my love was returned, it felt like spring. a new beginning. i had to teach myself how to breathe again, how to stop lying, how to visit the garden without choking. i always preferred winter to spring until i felt a hand in mine. until i escaped. i never told him the torture i had endured because hurting him would be worse than what i went through. _

_ i thought it was over.  _

_ but the doctors never tell you that you can’t escape it, that someday you’ll have to watch someone else cough up goddamn flower petals. nobody ever says that keeping a secret like that is a clinical case of cognitive dissonance, where you want to be merciful but you don’t want them to die. nobody has ever looked me in the eyes and said that spring would become summer would become autumn, that leaves would fall and flowers would tumble out as they say “what do i do?” _

_ it’s never fucking over.  _

_ i’ve made so many mistakes. i still can’t sleep. every time someone coughs i panic, clutching my chest as guilt renders me incapacitated. my love has to remind me that i’m forgiven, that it’s over, that i’ll never have to see it again. i tell him that i’ve killed so many, too many, but this hurt the worst. he tells me to go back to sleep. i never do. _

_ i’ll never be able to look at a cherry blossom tree again. on the spring solstice, i sit quietly in a garden beside my friend, who never recovered either. i think he was my accomplice in the murder i committed three years ago. or maybe we were just bystanders, or we were victims, and those goddamn flowers were the culprit, the killer, the thing that stole our friend away from us. what stole our happiness, our innocence, the sanctuary in quiet days. everything’s too quiet. _

_ i tried. i tried so. fucking. hard. and i fucked up.  _

_ it’s impossible to escape hanahaki.  _


	2. chapter i - daffodils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this flower represents new beginnings.
> 
> “love me.”

the flowers today are the color of roses, although tinted a bit darker with blood. they rest in rantaro amami’s hands innocently, though their presence is incredibly incriminating. he gently lets them fall into the trash can before going to the sink, washing his hands and brushing his hair for the new day.

rantaro wonders how far something has to go before he should become seriously concerned.

it’s been a week since the flowers have started appearing. at first, rantaro figured it was just a bad cough, because korekiyo came down with some kind of illness and the two of them had been spending a lot of time together for a school project. however, while studying for an english exam, he started to cough violently. he covered his mouth and grabbed a bottle of water, ready to go see kaito and ask for some cough syrup…

...when he removed his hand, and saw a flower petal.

he panicked. of course he did. but he didn’t  _ go  _ to anyone, since it was such a strange and bizarre occurrence that he couldn’t even piece it together into words. he figured he could just sleep it off.

it’s been a week, and they  _ haven’t gone away _ . 

rantaro flicks off the bathroom light, grabbing his bag and heading to the dining hall to grab some breakfast. he tries to keep a smile on his face to hide the shock from the bloody flowers.

he waves to miu as he passes her, laughing at the lewd joke she instinctively makes. he greets one of his professors politely and swings open the door to the dining hall.

it smells like french toast and pancakes. kirumi is a miracle worker. 

“rantaro!” 

rantaro hardly has time to process before he sees a ball of hyperactivity and purple  _ launch _ at him. kokichi wraps his arms around rantaro, clinging onto him like a koala while rantaro tries to figure out what the  _ fuck  _ just happened.

“how is my husband?” kokichi says cheekily.

“kokichi, i  _ just  _ woke up. can you please save your fuckery until after i have breakfast?”

“nope.”

“great.” rantaro rolls his eyes, but smiles. “thanks.”

he’s been friends with kokichi longer than anybody else, really. although the purple haired gremlin isn’t the  _ first  _ person people choose to open up to, he was the one rantaro gave his trust to at first. sure, he steals room keys and paints kaito’s walls bright pink, but he’s also extremely loyal and a pretty good listener. 

eventually, rantaro accumulated a pretty good friend group-- though everyone in their class was friends with each other-- but kokichi would always be his closest friend.

kokichi eventually gets off and grabs his hand. “c’mon, maki roll saved you a seat!”

“you need to stop calling her maki roll. she’s going to kill you one of these days.” 

“aw, come on! she has a soft spot for me!”

she totally  _ doesn’t _ , but kokichi can dream. 

rantaro is greeted eagerly by kaede when he nears the lunch table. “rantaro!”

“that’s me.” he sits next to kaede on the bench, accepting the plate of food maki hands him. “thanks, maki.”

“no problem.” she sounds tired, but she at least has coffee helping her out. 

“where’s kaito and shuichi?” rantaro asks curiously. usually, shuichi was an early riser.

kokichi blows a raspberry for no particular reason. “they’re still training. i think kaito is just trying to steal shumai from me!”

“we’re  _ dating _ .” maki mutters under her breath.

kokichi gasps. “no shit, i thought the maki roll was just buddies being pals!”

“please don’t fight until shuichi gets here.” kaede rubs her temples. “he’s the peacekeeper.”

“fine, fine.” kokichi agrees. maki just holds her hand up in a surrender and goes back on her phone.

rantaro allows himself to peacefully zone out while kokichi and kaede talk. he’s got a trip coming up in around a month, one to new zealand. he’s pretty excited, but he’s starting to wonder if he’s going to have to cancel it due to the whole coughing situation. it isn’t that bad-- he’s gone to countries while seriously sick because he’s dedicated to his cause-- but it’s still… concerning. plus, there are a lot of people on the plane, and he’s going to struggle to hide the flower petals and the blood from all of them.

the whole situation would be so much fucking easier if he could find out the  _ cause. _

he’s spent late nights on the internet, trying to figure out a cause. nobody had an answer. he found an abandoned forum from someone who said they were dealing with something similar, but they never got an answer as to what it is or how to stop it. all the replying threads just recommended seeking medical assistance.

rantaro should probably do that. it’s the logical option, after all. still, he feels surprisingly nervous about confiding in anybody else with this information.

maybe he  _ should  _ cancel the trip.

“good morning, everyone!” rantaro breaks from his thoughts with the loud, boisterous tone coming from kaito. he bears a bright grin and gives everyone a thumbs up. “time to seize the day!”

“good morning.” the second voice is quieter and more muted. rantaro finds his own smile turning fonder as he sees shuichi. rantaro’s had a crush on him for a while, but it’s only really become a big  _ thing  _ recently. he can’t really help it: the detective is so soft-spoken, so intelligent, and endlessly helpful. he’s supportive and kind, and has even offered to go with rantaro on his various trips. rantaro really,  _ really  _ likes him.

kokichi jumps out of his seat to hug shuichi and, solely to be extra, press a couple kisses on his cheek. shuichi turns bright red and flusters, gently pushing kokichi off but mumbling a small “hey there” to him. rantaro’s smile falls a little.

naturally, shuichi’s dating kokichi. they’ve been together for a while, and rantaro has seen the entire process of their relationship-- the mutual pining, how goddamn clueless they were, the heart attacks kaede was suffering  _ because  _ they were clueless, and their various dates. they are, in all senses of the word, a nearly perfect relationship. their conflict resolution skills are admirable, and they’re endlessly supportive of each other. it’s really nice to see, it just sucks that rantaro fell for his best friend’s boyfriend.

“how is everyone?” shuichi says, sitting down next to kokichi, who is practically in his lap.

“great!” kaede replies happily. 

maki shrugs. “i’m fine.”

“i’m stellar!” is kaito’s contribution. maki snorts. 

“i’m doing fantastic, shumai! kaito hasn’t even noticed the prank yet!” kokichi smiles cheekily. 

shuichi and kaito both grow a little pale.

“how are you, rantaro?” kaede asks, pretending that kaito isn’t panicking and racking his mind through everything kokichi has done so far.

“i’m g-” rantaro can’t get through the first word before he starts coughing. it lasts nearly a full minute, and kaito starts thumping his back, assuming he’s choking. he  _ isn’t  _ choking, but it’s not like he can exactly voice the sentiment, so he submits himself to the inevitable bruise he’s going to develop on his back as he desperately tries to reassure shuichi that he isn’t dying. when he finally finishes, he drinks water and gives everyone a smile. “well, i  _ was _ good.”

“it be like that sometimes.” kokichi says sympathetically.

rantaro nods. “it do.” 

with the panic quelled and rantaro’s coughs managed, everyone gets back to debating if kokichi  _ actually  _ pulled a prank, or if he’s just fucking with kaito. rantaro offers small commentary every once in a while, but lets the conversation progress by itself while he looks under the table. slowly, he removes his hand from a fist.

_ fuck. _

there’s definitely some blood there, and in the middle of his palm, there’s a flower petal. 

he closes his hand again. 

“you alright, rantaro?” shuichi asks.

rantaro nods. “yeah. yeah, i’m alright.” he takes in a shaky breath. “i’m still with kaede on this, kokichi’s probably lying.”

“this is fake news!”

and so, the day carries on. 

(later, while the teacher goes on about hope’s peak’s history, rantaro cancels the flight. it seems like the right move.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay. life kicked me in the ass but. hey. hopefully i can get next chapters out soon.


	3. chapter ii - purple hyacinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this flower symbolizes sorrow.
> 
> “please forgive me.”

it’s been a week, and it’s gotten worse.

thankfully, it’s been easy to hide. rantaro is pretty good at lying; it’s a skill he first started using to keep his sanity when he lost his sisters all those years ago, but over time, it helped him keep other things hidden, such as how he’s feeling. of course, hiding his feelings isn’t healthy; he’s argued that against kokichi for months, and kokichi’s only now expressing his true emotions. with rantaro, though, there’s rarely an indication that something’s wrong. nobody asks him how he is with a thought that there’s an issue, so it’s easy to lie, and relatively guilt free. 

even as he’s coughing up petals, he can still hide his pain. it’s spring, anyway; he can blame his issues on allergies or an illness. it’s a lie he can sell the others, anyway. 

right now, he has better things to focus on. like kaede’s recount of her most recent concert.

“at first, i was really really really nervous, which like, i don’t get nervous at concerts! i mean, i used to, but my anxiety has gotten way better. i guess the other people playing looked intimidating, because they were dressed in blazers and pencil skirts-”

“not pencil skirts!” kokichi gasps, and shuichi nudges him to get him to be quiet.

“i know, right? anyway,” kaede continues to tell her story, but rantaro feels himself wander off mentally. it’s a beautiful day; the cherry blossoms are beautiful, and kaede’s flower crown matches them perfectly. their school always has really good landscaping, so the slightly dewy grass is even beneath rantaro’s feet, which is impressive. who actually has even, weedless grass? there's a slight breeze in the air, pushing kokichi as he sits on a swing. shuichi stands next to him, his attention focused entirely on kaede, who’s leaning against a tree. maki is sitting on the ground next to rantaro and kaito; the latter is doing jumping jacks and push ups whilst still commenting on kaede’s story. it’s a peaceful scene…

… but there’s still dread resting in the bottom of rantaro’s stomach. 

“and one of the judges gave me a 9.9, which like, who gives someone a 9.9? what was the tiny point off for? not bowing correctly?”

“it was the pencil skirt.” rantaro says, making his voice grim. (like his thoughts. hah.) “it was definitely the pencil skirt.”

“okay, but i had a dress on! black, too, so i could fit the funeral theme.”

“as a person who wears all black, i feel offended.” rantaro’s eyes immediately shift to shuichi, who made the quiet comment. god, he looks so pretty, with the cherry blossoms in the background, and the breeze running through his hair.

kokichi scoffs, “okay, but you dress like a walking funeral, you can’t deny that.”

“shut up.”

“make me.”

right. shuichi isn’t single. don’t forget that.

_ not that he’d date you anyway. _

rantaro coughs violently at the thought, and the action draws attention from his friends. 

“may god bless your soul!” kokichi says, because of course he says that.

“jeez, that was like, a sick cough. you okay, bro?” kaito comments.

_ no. _

“yeah. might just be allergies.”

“you’re so bad at remembering to take your allergy medicine.” shuichi jokes, and rantaro nods.

“yeah, i really-” rantaro coughs again, and the force at which it comes out makes his chest hurt. “i’ll…” his voice is rough when he speaks again, “i’ll be right back. water fountain.”

“you can just water-fall from my bottle, if you want?” kaede offers.

“that’s not-” kokichi gasps dramatically, “a  _ water bottle _ . that is a  _ hydro flask™ _ .”

“in any case,” rantaro figures ignoring kokichi is the best option here. “i don’t get how water-falling works. i’m just going to the water fountain.”

“okay…” maki mutters, her voice displaying some skepticism at his lies. rantaro isn’t sure why she looks as though she uncovered a mystery, but it stirs unease in the bottom of his stomach.

rantaro turns around, heading to where the bathrooms are in hope’s peak. he waves at korekiyo and gonta as he walks, both of them seeming to be examining bugs. rantaro coughs again, and the red mark on his hand takes him by surprise. he pulls open the bathroom door with his left hand, locking it and immediately moving to the toilet. he throws up, but instead of food or bile coming up, it’s purely blood and flowers. 

the stench of blood and the taste of metal makes him want to throw up for a different reason, but he keeps it down as he retches again. this time, it’s only a few petals, but he notices blood dripping off the side of the toilet. shit. he needs to clean that.

he sits back, moving his hand to grab a paper towel, when he hears a knock. it’s strange, considering that there is another bathroom only a hallway down with more stalls, but then he hears a feminine voice speaking. “rantaro?”

“maki?” why the hell is she… “this is the guy’s bathroom-”

“i know, dumbass.” she sighs, exasperated, “i also know that something’s wrong. let me in.”

“how do you-” he starts coughing again, and he feels blood against his chapped lips. he gets up, unlocking the door. he tries for a smile, “i promise, it’s not that-”

“holy  _ shit _ .” she steps into the bathroom, looking at rantaro with wide eyes. “what the fuck-”

he falls down, retching again. 

for a second, rantaro and maki stare at each other. piercing red eyes flicker from rantaro’s face, blood spilling down to his chin, to the drops of blood and flower petals in the toilet seat. rantaro opens his mouth, preparing himself to beg her to secrecy, but the second his lips part, he coughs again, and he grabs the porcelain with shaking hands. he looks away, expecting maki to run at that very moment and tell someone, but instead, he hears the door lock. maki sits down on the floor next to him, resting her knees on the tile and adjusting her skirt to avoid the blood splatter. she inhales, her breath shaking, before exhaling a question, “when did this start?”

“maki, i…” rantaro meets her gaze once again, and he knows he can’t lie. her expression is serious and almost pleading, and he feels pity growing in his heart (despite the fact that he is kneeling over a toilet seat, shaking and vomiting blood and flowers). “it... it started two weeks ago.”

“oh thank god,” rantaro looks at her questioningly, so she elaborates, “it’s not been that long, then. if this had been for a few months…”

“do you know what’s happening?”

“you... you don’t? well, i suppose that makes sense.” maki is a generally calm and stoic person, but she seems to grow more and more panicked as the conversation progresses. when rantaro retches into the seat again, a flower petal coming out, she decides to elaborate, “what you have is called hanahaki disease. it’s rare, might have something to do with genetics regarding how it affects people, and it’s caused…” she inhales deeply, closing her eyes, “it happens when you fall in love with someone and it’s… well, when it’s unrequited.”

“oh.” rantaro feels as though the answer should be more devastating, but in the end, it makes a lot of sense. of course, he’s never heard of this, and he has no idea why maki has, but it started when he realized his love for shuichi. it only makes sense that this is the reason for his suffering. he watches another petal hit the water, and he sits back again, hoping that’s the end of this episode. a question appears in his mind, one that he thinks he knows the answer to, but he wants hope. he needs hope. “is hanahaki deadly?”

for a few seconds, maki is silent. her face is pained, while rantaro’s is calm. he forms a smile, and maki answers, exactly the way he expected, “yeah. if it isn’t treated.”

“well, how do i treat it?”

“two ways. i only really know about one, and that’s… that’s the harder one. i mean, both are hard, but this is… more by chance. then again, it depends on the circumstance. anyway,” she coughs, stalling, “it will go away if the person you love returns your affection.”

_ oh. _

somehow, it hurts more to hear that. he swallows back a cough and forms a question, his voice barely a whisper as he fights back his pain, “what if i can’t do that?”

“oh. well, i don’t know much about the other option, but basically, you get your love removed. you lose all feelings for that person, which most people do because they can’t handle the pain.”

“...how do you know so much about this?”

rantaro didn’t know what he was expecting, but he still stills when he hears her answer: “i had it. pretty bad too, about a month in. it was getting really bad and i was going to just get it removed because i couldn’t handle it. but a few days after i decided to get it removed, kaito confessed to me. and it went away. and we’re still together, years later.”

“aww.”

she doesn’t smile. right. rantaro forgot that they’re discussing a disease that is literally killing him. “who is it?”

“no.” it is obviously not an answer, but rantaro’s gut reaction forces the words out of his mouth. “i can’t.”

“look, i get that. kaito was my friend, i didn’t want to tell him, but-“

“i can’t.” rantaro shakes his head. “i appreciate the help, information, and support, maki, but i can handle the rest on my own.”

she’s silent for a while. she opens her mouth but closes it, pressing her lips together. “dammit. fine. but when it gets bad, like a few months in, because it only takes that long, you have to get it removed. i don’t like promises, but i need you to at least say you’ll do that.”

“i will.” rantaro isn’t sure if it’s a lie. by the way maki winces, it seems like she doesn’t know either. regardless, she mutters a thank you and turns around, closing the bathroom door. 

rantaro weakly stands up, and he moves to lock it. he’s sure maki came up with an excuse already for his absence, and he’ll be free to return to his dorm soon.

he coughs one more time, watching the petal hit the ground, before taking some deep breaths. when he’s certain he’s safe, he flushes the toilet and cleans up blood splatter. he rinses his mouth with water, smiles at himself in the mirror (it’s half-convincing, so it forces it to look real enough that he can fool shuichi, who never misses a detail), and steps outside.

“rantaro!” kaede waves her hand around, as if she is trying to flag a taxi. her other friends turn and look at him with both concern and curiosity, “maki said you’re sick?”

“yeah. i’ve been pretty nauseous. must be something from travelling.”

shuichi hums thoughtfully, and rantaro forced himself to not meet the detective’s hazel eyes. “you should head back to your dorm. it’s about seven, it’s a perfectly good time to sleep.”

“seven?!” kokichi looks appalled, and rantaro laughs at the way he gawks at shuichi. “who sleeps at seven pm?”

“i do before concerts!” kaede chips in.

“i sleep at eight every night! gotta keep myself strong and healthy!” kaito smiles, and maki bits her lip to stop herself from joining him. it’s adorable, really, they’re so adorable.

it hurts.

“god, i’m surrounded by a bunch of morons! the bird can’t get the worm if they’re sleeping the whole day!”

“you woke up at one pm yesterday.”

“shuichiiiii! don’t embarrass me!!”

he chuckles, his baritone voice echoing in rantaro’s ears as he grins down at kokichi. “sorry.”

“you sure you’re okay, rantaro?” kaede is, once again, looking at him in concern. people’s eyes flicker to him again, and he can feel panic along with… something else rising in his throat.

_ fuck. _

still, he smiles convincingly, “yeah, sorry. i’m going to head back to my dorm.”

“okay. goodnight, rantaro!” kaede’s remark is met with similar ones, aside from kokichi’s comment about him being able to miss school.

“night.” he turns around, waiting until he’s close to the dorms before letting his face fall. he feels as if he might cry, and he remembers that he forgot to ask maki if he can choke in his sleep. well, not like choking in his sleep is the  _ worst _ way to go, at least he’ll still be out of it, at least-

why is he already considering his death? 

rantaro locks his door and collapses on his bed. outside his window, he can see miu and kiibo talking (they’re easily noticed due to the bright pink miu is wearing and the lights flickering on kiibo). he also notices that his friends are grouped around, and shuichi looks up at his dorm.

rantaro panics, shutting his curtains and turning off the lights. he hardly bothers trying to change out of his clothes: they aren’t that expensive or frequently worn, since he knew they’d get blood stains. he wraps himself in his blanket, sweating slightly and praying that he isn’t developing a fever. a sluggish kind of sleep overcomes him, and he thanks the world for allowing him to shut his eyes and get some rest.

* * *

_ his lips are attached to someone’s neck, and he feels them squirm underneath him, letting out a pleasured sigh. their skin is warm and soft, and he moves his lips lower, leaving a trail of hickeys to their chest. a hand intertwines with his, and he smiles happily as he kisses every inch of their body. the person under him is warm and soft and good, and he’s okay, when- _

_ he’s pushed off. he hears someone screaming, and the pale hand that just held his moves up to slap him across the face. tears appear in the corner of his eyes, and he bits his lip as another person throws him to the ground. purple eyes are inches from his, and he hears taunts from a thousand voices. the person he was kissing only moments ago is crying, and rantaro shuts his eyes as his best friend rips him to shreds, calling him a horrible person and a slut and a disgrace and a  _ **_worthless human being_ ** _. _

_ he closes his eyes as he feels pain in every part of his body. he deserves this.  _

_ when the pain stops, he looks up and sees his best friend and ‘lover’ kissing, wrapping around each other. this is his fault, this is his fault, this is- _

* * *

rantaro shoots out of his bed and barely lands on his feet, stumbling blindly to his bathroom as he coughs into his arm. blood comes out, of course it does, but what he notices more of in the flower petals, fluttering to the ground and speaking the same words he heard in his dream. he kneels on the floor, or rather, he falls to his knees suddenly and painfully, ignoring the loud thud he makes as he throws up roses, bile, and blood mixed. the concoction is ugly and putrid, but he can’t move or look away as he keeps retching. sweat pours down his face and body, and he feels burning tears. his ugly gagging noises turn to sobs, the pain and the dream becoming too much for him. rantaro amami can handle many things, but the look dream shuichi saihara gave him consumes all reason and strength, replacing it with raw vulnerability.

as his coughs begin to slow, his mind flickers back to the dream. the way he intervened in kokichi and shuichi’s relationship, the shouted insults he received, how shuichi had sworn to kokichi that he was sexually assaulted by rantaro…

… was this what he is doing? what he will do in the future if he doesn’t get this removed?

shuichi and kokichi are perfect: they compliment each other, and the relationship has made the two of them happier than they have ever been. they never leave anybody out, or make anybody feel like a third wheel. they are, in every way, perfect. 

will rantaro ruin that? 

it is likely an absurd time, early in the morning or late at night, but rantaro undresses and turns on the shower. he steps in too early, when the water is still freezing, and allows the loud noise of the water rushing out of the shower head to hide his sobs. his entire body is shaking, and for a moment, he isn’t sure how he’s going to face his friends when the morning comes again. how will he face shuichi, knowing that their relationship is based on ignorance and selfishness that combined into something like a close friendship? how will he see kokichi, his best friend and partner in crime (shuichi doesn’t  _ do _ crime), knowing that in another existence, he was mercilessly beating up rantaro because rantaro is shitty and  _ everything is shitty _ ? he doesn’t believe in dreams actually coming true, that sounds like an angie or korekiyo kind of belief, but he is certain that this one is in the future. 

_ the way shuichi cried hurt him more than the punches. _

he shivers violently, and he switches the knob. the temperature shifts from extremely cold to scalding hot, but he sighs and allows the water to turn his pale, sickly skin to pink. he puts in shampoo and conditioner, not taking as much time as he usually does to care for his hair, instead rushing everything. he scrubs his body raw with soap, desperate to get out the stench of blood and sickly fragrant flowers (both painful). 

it takes just over a minute before he shuts off the water with more force than he needs and exits the shower. he wraps a towel around himself and moves weakly around to throw on some clothes, along with cologne (something he hates, but necessary to hide any remaining smell). when he finishes dressing, he opens his door and makes his way to the dining hall.

when he enters the dining hall, he realizes the time. the digital clock placed just above a set of large windows states that it is 1:02 AM. factoring in how long his episode lasted, and then getting dressed and coming here, he had been sleeping for around five hours. damn. 

despite the early hours, rantaro spots kokichi, sitting alone at a table and happily eating toast. he also realizes that the purple-haired boy is talking to himself, but he shouldn’t be that surprised at that: it’s kokichi, after all. for a moment, rantaro reconsiders his decision to come to the dining hall, as the ghost of dream kokichi lingers around him, punching and kicking him and tearing him apart. but, he determines, anything is better than being in that dismal room, and it doesn’t take long before kokichi notices him anyway. the small boy jumps up excitedly and runs over to rantaro.

“rantarooooo!”

“what are you doing here? it’s one am.”

“i could say the same for you~” kokichi grins, booping rantaro on the nose (considering that rantaro is nine inches taller than him, it’s almost comical). “i was up all night planning some evil deeds!”

“ah, of course.” rantaro rolls with it, because of course he does, but he can’t shake off the feeling that this friendship is delicate.

kokichi laughs mischievously, but when he meets rantaro’s eyes, there’s a tiny drop of concern in his expression, “why were you up?” 

“oh, i wasn’t feeling well.” rantaro lies, and it hurts how easy it is. everything hurts.

“if you get me sick, i’ll send an assassin after you! makiiiiiiii!”

rantaro covers kokichi’s mouth and whispers harshly, “people are  _ sleeping _ !”

he shrugs, “nishishishish~”

the two of them fall into silence. rantaro moves over to the table kokichi was sitting at. he rests his hand against his face, and the cool touch of the ring is grounding. it’s not even that hot in the room, but rantaro leans into the simple relief of the cold as if it’s the answer to his misery. rantaro watches kokichi stand and grab a few bagels, along with a banana. rantaro watches, but he feels like he’s seeing through the person offering him food.

“rantaro? you here?”

“yeah.” 

“i get the banana, because i’m gay~” kokichi says flamboyantly, and rantaro laughs. it feels half hearted; how has he never told his best friend that he was also gay? it’s not as if he’s homophobic, he’s  _ literally  _ dating shuichi, and also makes more gay jokes than anybody else rantaro knows. it’s fine, he knows it’s fine, he has worse problems than struggling to come out. maybe that’s why he forces his mouth open, his words coming out more bold and confident than he really feels.

“me too.”

kokichi stares at him for a second. there’s no judgment in his expression, and kokichi bites his lip before speaking, “not going to lie, i’m slightly disappointed i didn’t figure that out earlier. considering how many ads you get about hot anime boys-”

“don’t even get me started on the hot anime boys.” rantaro manages a smile. at least kokichi didn’t react badly. “also, i mean, kaede has a perfect gaydar, and she never figured it out, so…”

“ahah! i am truly the ultimate gaydar now! well, not really, but i’m better than her, i guess. right? riiiiight?”

“yes, kokichi, you’re the ultimate gaydar.”

“yay!” the purple haired boy cheers, and rantaro smiles. for a moment, there’s silence again, and when kokichi talks, it’s shockingly honest and serious. “you know i don’t mind, right? none of us mind. if anybody in our class was homophobic, they’d be dead a long time ago. like,  _ everyone _ is gay.”

“yeah.” it’s reassuring to hear, despite rantaro already knowing that their class is perfectly tolerant, “i know. i’m just worried. i don’t really care about anybody else knowing. now that i told you, we’re all good.”

“okay! RANTARO’S GAY!” kokichi shouts, and rantaro lunges across the table to cover his mouth again.

“it’s  _ one am,  _ dumbass!”

“oh yeah.” he grins, “forgot.”

rantaro sighs, grabbing one of the bagels and taking a bite of it. he feels a lot better after coming out to kokichi, even though he expected the reaction to be positive. rantaro spreads some jam on the bagel when he realizes how plain it tastes, and he listens to kokichi when he starts rambling again.

“how did you find out you were gay?”

_ when i fell in love with your boyfriend. _

“i think i always knew.” that’s only partly a lie. “i just never really liked women.”

kokichi gasps, “sexist!”

“oh for fuck’s sake, you know what i meant.”

“mhmm! well, as long as you don’t snatch shuichi from me, we’re good!” kokichi takes a sip from his soda as if it’s tea, and gives rantaro a jokingly serious look.

“don’t worry, you can have him.” forcing the words out of his mouth is painful, and rantaro immediately begins thinking of escape plans for this situation, a gut instinct now. of course, he can just say he feels sleepy, but kokichi knows him well and could probably tell something was wrong if he suddenly left. he doesn’t feel any threat of coughing or throwing up, but his body feels heavy, reminding him of the depression he experienced when he first lost his sisters. underneath the table, he clenches his fist, and he decides to change the topic casually. “how’s DICE going?”

“oh, y’know, we’re busy taking hold of the city! trying to control the world is such hard work!”

“i pity you.”

“you should!” rantaro laughs at kokichi’s feigned sadness, but there’s something hollow in his voice. thankfully, his friend doesn’t notice amidst his own rambles, “we’ve been hijacking cars, breaking into small businesses, eating the souls of the innocent…”

“yummy. i just  _ love  _ eating the souls of the innocent.”

“wow, samesies!”

“never say samesies again.”

“don’t test me. i can make my speaking so much more obnoxious than that.”

“i know twenty languages, do you really want to do this right now?”

“i surrender!”

“hah, bitch.”

“what are you guys doing?” rantaro looks up, and of course, shuichi is standing there with a cup of tea. kokichi scoots over, allowing him space to sit, and rantaro lets him answer the question in favor of storing his panic.

“oh, y’know, discussing DICE’s evil plans!”

“ah. right.”

“also, rantaro’s gay.”

“ _ what? _ ”

“well, alright then.” rantaro says, sighing at kokichi’s antics. 

“oops.”

“anyway,” shuichi speaks, cutting off kokichi. “i’m proud of you for coming out like that. that’s a hard thing to do. it took me years.”

rantaro can’t tell if the panic or the infatuation is stronger, but one of them makes his voice quiet and strangled as he says, “thanks.” shuichi furrows his eyebrows at the small voice rantaro suddenly possessed, but he seems to let it go.

“why are either of you up anyway?”

“rantaro’s sick, and i’ve been scheming!”

“ah, so that’s why he’s so quiet.” shuichi ponders out loud, and rantaro hopes his heartbeat doesn’t overpower the quiet ambiance of the room. he stands up, picking up his trash (and also getting kokichi’s banana peel, because he’s nice like that) and throwing it away. in the background, he can hear the couple bickering about kokichi’s sleeping pattern, and he suddenly coughs, a flower petal falling into the trash can. shuichi turns around, looking at him in concern. “you alright?”

“just a tiny cough, it’s fi-” rantaro violently coughs again into the trash can, but hurriedly pulls himself back together as he hears two pairs of footsteps behind him.

shuichi puts his hand on his forehead when he reaches him, “you don’t have a fever, so i guess you’re-”

rantaro coughs again, backing away from the couple. there’s a mark of blood on his arm, but his friends didn’t see it, thank god. still, kokichi’s eyes are shockingly serious, “rantaro, is everything okay?”

“yeah!” he curses himself for the eagerness he tries to force, and he averts his eyes from them. he notices tears forming in his eyes from the pain in his chest, and shuichi opens his mouth to comment on it, but rantaro speaks before the detective can. “i’m feeling ill again, so i’m going to go back to sleep.”

shuichi speaks when rantaro turns around to leave the dining hall, “rantaro, you’re cryi-” 

“it’s just a fucking cough.” silence follows his lie, “is this how you react when everybody coughs? i’m fine.” his voice is cold and steady when he speaks, and a tear falls down his face. he doesn’t look behind him as he walks out of the dining hall, thankful when he doesn’t hear footsteps. 

the walk to his dorm is quiet, aside from quiet sobs that he struggles to stifle. when he locks the door, he coughs immediately, the blood and new petal falling to the ground. “dammit!” he shouts, falling into bed. he throws off his shirt-- his room has suddenly become too hot-- and closes his eyes. before he can fall asleep, however, he hears his phone buzz, and he swears once again.

kokichi: r u ok?

kokichi: bro, home-slice, homo-slice, friendo, partner’, that was /not/ just a cough.

kokichi: and dude even if it was like idk why you’d cry at it lol so what’s wrong?

shuichi: Did we do something wrong?

rantaro throws his phone against the floor, not caring to hear if it shatters as he turns towards the wall and cries. when did this become so painful? in the beginning, it was just infatuation, but now everything is a trigger and everything hurts and rantaro isn’t sure he can survive this. the depression, the breakdowns, the nightmares, he can’t handle it. he shuts his eyes, hearing his phone buzz a few more times before forcing himself to sleep. he rolls around in bed, clinging to the blanket and feeling his entire body go numb, and after what feels like an hour, he finally falls asleep.

* * *

kokichi: aside from the cough, u were upsetti the whole time, so like, if me and shuichi made you feel like a third wheel, tell us

kokichi: we’re not going to be offended, ur my best friend. hurting you would suck

kokichi: not even suck dick, just like, suck

kokichi: which is the worst kind of suck because you don’t get anything out of it smh

shuichi: I really hope everything is okay. I know you’re lying about this all being your sickness. You have a high immunity system from travelling. You’ve been quiet and secretive and unusually upset. 

shuichi: I’ll go with your lie if you promise that you’ll explain things later.

shuichi: Goodnight, Rantaro. Stay safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two notes.
> 
> 1\. this fic was meant to be finished in march. it is may. i am so fucking sorry. i PROMISE it will get finished someday because holy shit i'm so tired of it just. sitting in my google docs. but FUCK it's taking so long and i'm so sorry i know "shit's been rough" is a pretty bad excuse but. shit's rough. and it's hard to get this stuff edited ahhaha. or to actually read any of it. which leads to my next point.
> 
> 2\. why is the writing of this fic so bad. rhetorical question aimed at myself. again i'm not going to give up on it and i do not have the energy to edit things ever because it do be like that but. oh my god. this is so bad and i'm so sorry. i promise you all i will do better in the future. 
> 
> also additional third point i'm still kinda on break from writing lol i wrote this chapter ages ago and edited like two lines so yeah. uh. enjoy this i'm sorry its so bad but hey at least that means my writing is improving, i'm just too lazy and sad to edit shit alsdkjfas. bye bye take care


	4. chapter iii - snapdragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> symbolizes the wish that hoped-for changes shall come.
> 
> can represent deception.

shuichi: Hey, Rantaro. You up?

rantaro rolls over in bed to check the text. he isn’t particularly surprised to see that shuichi messaged him; despite saying that he’s just sick, his friends have still tried to get him out of his room, especially kokichi and shuichi (the dining hall conversation was a week ago, and rantaro told them that he didn’t feel like a third wheel, but he knows they’re still worried). usually, he politely declines the offers, but he hasn’t coughed  _ that  _ much today, he can probably take the risk. besides, it’s shuichi asking. how is he supposed to turn him down?

rantaro: yea

shuichi: yay

why is he so adorable?

shuichi: So, basically, Kaito wants us to stargaze with him, and he’s threatening to break down your door if you don’t join us.

shuichi: You free? I know you’re ill, but fresh air might be nice. 

rantaro thinks for a moment. there’s not much that can go wrong since it’s stargazing, so he could just leave at any given moment. kaito loves stars, and sometimes he falls asleep during the event, prompting maki to carry him back to his dorm. rantaro could easily lie and get back to his room. on a less cynical note, it’s been a while since he’s stargazed with his friends, and he misses it. it’s always a peaceful, nice moment, and he highly doubts it will be different even if he is in pain.

rantaro: yea sure 

shuichi: yay

shuichi: Meet us in ten minutes.

rantaro: oh shit ok

shuichi: Haha

rantaro grabs a random shirt from his closet, one with a cartoon cat on it, and slides on some jeans. he fiddles with his piercings in the mirror and slides on a few rings. he pauses, considering his actions, but decides anyway to grab a rainbow bracelet someone (most likely kaede) left at his door a few days ago. it feels almost relieving to have it on, and to know that nobody minds his sexuality. he can’t help but feel partly guilty, just because he wasn’t the one to tell them, but he honestly prefers kokichi (who asked for permission a thousand times) letting everyone know. cowardly? probably. but it’s not like he’s talking to many people anyway.

he opens the door, making his way to the stairs. it’s about two flights to get to the roof, so he starts walking, not wasting any time. by the time he reaches the roof door, he’s winded-- usually he has high stamina, but the hanahaki might be wearing down on him-- but as he opens the door, he realizes everyone is already there.

“oh come on! how did you get up the stairs  _ that fast _ ?”

“hey, rantaro!” kaede says excitedly, standing up to give him a hug. normally, that would be a bit of an extra gesture, but rantaro can already sense that his friends are concerned about him.

“you gotta train, bro!” kaito says, addressing rantaro’s question.

“for the record,” maki replies, “kaito had to take a break after the first flight because he stubbed his toe.”

“don’t underestimate the pain of stubbing your toe,” kokichi comments, “it’s a battle scar.”

maki rolls her eyes. “go back to talking about the constellations, kaito.”

“actually, probably don’t.” shuichi gestures rantaro to sit next to him as he talks to kaito, “i’ve heard you talk about ursa major like five times.”

rantaro lies down next to shuichi, looking up at the stars and trying to ignore the warmth of shuichi’s arm right next to him. especially since kokichi and shuichi are partially cuddling.

god, rantaro’s disgusting.

“we can just look at em!” kaito says, his enthusiasm not dwindling. “if you have any questions, i can talk about em! after all, i am kaito…” he pauses, gesturing to maki.

“oh, yeah. momota, luminary of the stars.” she deadpans, looking at her boyfriend, “did i do it right?”

“yeah, but… a little more enthusiasm next time!”

“i’m maki harukawa, luminary of angst. what do you expect?”

“why are mom and dad fighting?” kokichi loudly whispers to shuichi, who bursts out laughing.

“luminary of angst might be the cringiest line i’ve ever heard, maki, and kokichi has shown me my little pony wattpad fanfic.” rantaro says quietly.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

“why are mom, dad, and uncle fighting?”

“ _ KOKICHI- _ ”

“who made me the fucking uncle?”

“okay, shut your asses, it’s star time!” kaede says excitedly, looking up at the stars in wonder.

feeling calm from the silence, rantaro looks up. he’s been to so many places around the world, but the stars above their school are always so familiar and beautiful. there’s pollution in the city they live in-- it’s an urban place, after all-- but the night sky is still so clear. the sky itself is mostly a dark navy blue, but there’s patches of dark plum and magenta scattered around, and rantaro could admire the natural beauty for years.

... how many more nights like this will he get?

“if you connect those stars, it looks like a dick.” kokichi says suddenly. immediately after, the entire group bursts into laughter, aside from a shocked kaito.

“it doesn’t!”

“not going to lie,” rantaro is partly wheezing from laughter, but he gets the words out, “it kinda does.”

“oh my god, you two.” kaede giggles. 

“this isn’t even the first time he’s said this!” kaito waves his hands expressively, “he always mentions…”

“dicks.” maki prompts.

he nods awkwardly, “yeah, that, every time we do this! what is it with you and…”

“dicks.” maki prompts once again.

“i’m dating shuichi for a reason, jeez,” kokichi’s words earns a sputter from shuichi, and kaede starts laughing even harder. rantaro… should be laughing.

_ why are you such a jealous bitch? what’s wrong with you? _

_ why are you like this? _

_ why are you like this what are you DOING why aren’t you laughing you love them you love  _ **_him_ ** _ just be happy why aren’t you happy it’s just a laugh just an exhale do you really think you have many left just fuckcing laugh just fucking glaguha jsut fycjgkni- _

“...rantaro?”

“yeah, sorry.” rantaro tilts his head to look at shuichi, before realizing that is a bad idea: he’s inches away from shuichi’s face, and his lips-

_ what the FUCK is wrong with you? _

“we were just saying we’re proud of you for coming out.” kaede says cheerfully.

“oh... yeah. thanks, guys-”

“what’s with you?” kaito’s words come out a bit too harsh, but he lacks tact and rantaro has dealt with worse. “rantaro, bro, i know you’re sick, but like, something else is happening.”

rantaro pushes himself off the ground, forcing him to move away from shuichi, “i’m really fine, guys. i’m gonna go to sleep, probably hella tired. goo-”

before he could finish his sentence, his vision turns dark and he gets hit with intense dizziness. he registers someone’s arms around him, but he blacks out, his knees hitting the ground.

\--

“should we get him to a nurse? if there’s an ultimate serial killer out there, there has to be an ultimate surgeon-”

“no, let’s wait for him to wake up.”

“maki roll, you know that’s not the best-”

“what are we going to do, carry him down four flights of stairs? trust me.”

_ it’s dark and fuzzy and cold and all he feels is pain pain pain _

_ he tastes metal oh god oh god _

_ stop, no _

_ the voices aren’t clear _

rantaro opens his eyes, registering that he’s now on the ground. he hears someone exclaim excitedly, but he can’t register who it is. hazel eyes look at him, but he doesn’t remember who those eyes belong to-

_ oh. _

“rantaro? can you hear us?” his voice is muddled, but rantaro nods anyway. “you passed out.”

“for god’s sake!” kaede shouts, “we need to get him to a nurse.”

“he was panicking,” maki says, her words partly lies, “so he got dizzy and passed out. he doesn’t have a fever, shuichi can check right now, he’s just sick with something.”

shuichi places his hand on rantaro’s forehead, and he’s too weak to move away, “he doesn’t have a fever.”

“maki, girl, i love you,” kaede says, “but don’t you think it’s kinda a stupid fucking idea to not take him to a nurse? like, that upperclassmen with lymphoma? what if his boyfriend was like, oh no, it’s just a cough?”

“mikan tsumiki is stressed out all the damn time and she’s the only nurse here. we can’t force him to see a nurse anyway, and i really don’t think it’ll help. it’s just a sickness.”

“mikan will be stressed if we take him there or not.” kokichi muttered scathingly. “but go off, miss ultimate doctor.”

“hey now.” shuichi mumbles. “calm down, ‘kichi.”

“you agree with her?”

“i think we should stop arguing about this.” shuichi replies coolly. kokichi shrugs and looks down at rantaro, biting his lip anxiously. the detective squeezes his shoulder, as if to say  _ sorry _ , but otherwise moves on.

kaede bites her lip but nods in assent to shuichi’s conclusion, “should he see a therapist or something at least? he’s been acting really weird.”

“... i can’t argue you on that. maybe he should.” maki’s red eyes look at him, a mixture of pity and scorn.

“yeah, i agree.” kokichi mutters, “like, rantaro, you’ve helped me open up about emotions, but whatever is going on with you, you need to talk to someone.”

“... what makes…” rantaro coughs before he can finish his sentence, “you think s-something is wrong?”

kokichi looks at him incredulously, “uhm,  _ everything? _ ”

“well, the fact you asked that is an indication.” shuichi begins, “it’s not related to you coming out, because, from what i remember, you were really chill about the situation when kokichi told me. it doesn’t have to do with us as a group, because you reassured us against that, and i think you’re being honest. the sickness isn’t that believable in the first place, so you can’t pin your emotions on something like that. it’s not hormones or mood swings, because i’ve seen you angry from hormones and it doesn’t look like that.”

“i... i haven’t been acting…” rantaro coughs again, but tries to sit up. he succeeds, leaning on maki, who sits beside him, “...weird.”

“you have.” shuichi refutes, “when me and kokichi asked you if something was wrong a week ago, you started crying. you haven’t left your room, and i’m pretty sure whatever illness you have isn’t contagious. you’re an extrovert, avoiding us is abnormal. every time we ask you if you’re okay, you get weird and defensive. for god’s sake,” shuichi looks rantaro in the eyes, “you aren’t weak for this! just tell us what’s wrong, or see a therapist, or something.”

“...”

“please.” the desperation in shuichi’s face almost makes rantaro want to comply. instead, he forces himself to be silent, shutting his eyes forcefully as a tear falls down his cheek. he feels shuichi wipe it off, and there’s more talking around him, but everything is fuzzy and numb. he can’t feel anything. he can’t lie anymore. 

why does everything hurt?

“rantaro.” kokichi’s force is extremely serious, and that’s almost terrifying, “we aren’t going to force you into therapy or something. we’re just worried. you aren’t explaining anything. you’re just making us guess and we can’t keep guessing.”

“...”

rantaro pushes himself up, standing shakily. shuichi and maki, who were previously sitting on the floor, follows him up. rantaro steps back, grabbing the roof door with one hand. he says nothing as he opens the door and walks back to his dorm, and his friends say nothing, either. 

(in the distance, he can hear the sound of someone’s fist hitting the wall, and kokichi yells  _ fuck! _ rantaro keeps walking.)

when he gets to his dorm, a process he doesn’t remember, he notices all the texts messages he got.

kaede: We love you <3

kaito: I’m really concerned about you, bro. Come train with me and Shuichi tomorrow, yeah?

kokichi: seriously i’m really worried now, you asshole. like maybe we’re overreacting and it’s just like,,, depression, but if it is depression then that wouldn’t be an overreaction bc tf

shuichi: Talk to us. 

when he sees the last one, he closes his phone and turns off the lights, shutting his mind down and falling into an empty fog worse than a nightmare:

maki: Rantaro, I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself. I can’t keep lying for you. Please. Just get it removed. We can figure out a time and everything. 

maki: I’m not a sentimental person, but you’re a really good friend, and I don’t want to watch you die. Because you will die if you do nothing.

maki: Get it removed. 

maki: Please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there's a lot of things i can say here. i could say that this update is super fucking late. i could say that i'm not giving up on this but i have since gotten two other hanahaki ideas that are leagues better and holy shit. i could say that the characterization is actually horrid. i could say that i barely edited this. i could say that i have no idea what day it is or what my fingers were doing whenever i wrote this.
> 
> but yknow what i /could/ say?
> 
> ...
> 
> i made shuichi saihara type with standard capitalization and punctuation and i will never, EVER, /EVER/ live that down. to myself, to god and everyone, to shuichi saihara himself. and ok no shade to people who make shuichi saihara himself type like that but also. what the fuck am i doing. what the fuck am i DOING.
> 
> okay that's all. until next time, lovelies.


	5. chapter iv: foxglove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> symbolizes both hurting and healing.
> 
> this flower is poisonous.

it’s been a week.

it doesn’t feel like it, in all honesty. the past few days feel like nothing, a loop of rantaro coughing and throwing up blood and petals and sleeping. he doesn’t go to class; maki brings him homework and food. rantaro has no idea what lie she fed the others, or maybe she gave up and feigned ignorance.

(it’s not working all that much. maki and kaito have been constantly fighting, and from what rantaro has heard, kaede’s too exhausted to play therapist. rantaro feels bad that he’s fucking up maki’s life with this, but it’ll all be over soon.)

his other friends still message him. kokichi is extremely concerned, calling him just to tell him that he’ll break into his room if he doesn’t answer. kaede and kaito are still gently trying to push him to go to therapy, but he declines. shuichi messages him, but it hurts so much that he never replies.

they visited his room a few days ago. instead of maki leaving food at the door, kokichi broke the lock and the entire group came in. the lights were off, and rantaro faced the wall, despite being awake. they spoke to him sweetly:

“i made you cookies. please eat them.”

“bro, we’re here if you need us.”

“you haven’t been eating, have you?”

“dammit, rantaro, what the fuck is up?”

“...”

maki had said nothing.

now, rantaro hears a knock at the door again. as usual, he ignores it, but after the first knock, it continues. and continues. and then he hears her voice: “if you don’t let me into this goddamn room, i’ll tell them all. we need to fucking talk.”

rantaro crawls weakly to the door, unlocking it and collapsing on the floor after, like the effort is too much. maki looks down on him, dropping his homework on the floor and locking his door again before yelling, “what the  _ fuck _ is wrong with you?”

“...”

“shuichi said he called you  _ thirty times _ this week, and you ignored them all! kaede made you a fucking therapy appointment, but the goddamn doctor couldn’t get into the room! i’ve been texting you every minute i can in class and after, trying to get you to listen to me. what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“...”

“do you realize you’re going to die?! look around you, rantaro!” she gestures wildly, “there’s a pool of blood next to your bed, there’s a pile of bloodstained shirts, you could probably grow a goddamn garden with all the petals everywhere!” maki gasps shakily, her voice increasing in pitch from anger, “you bastard! i should have told everyone what happened sooner, maybe i could have stopped this, maybe i could have-” she cuts herself off, falling on the ground next to him and shaking his shoulders, “listen to me right now! i’m talking like you’re dying, and you haven’t done anything! do you want to die?” it doesn’t sound like just a catchphrase anymore. “DO YOU WANT TO DIE?”

“...”

“answer me!”

“...i don’t know.”

maki’s head drops, staring at her skirt silently for a moment. rantaro is taken off guard when he sees a tear fall. then another. rantaro forces himself to sit up, and he wraps his weak arms around her. she sobs into his shoulder, her hand hitting his chest as she cussed, “i don’t want you to die! you hear me? you can’t fucking die!”

“...”

“tell me who it is!” her voice is filled with tearful panic, “tell me! i don’t care if it’s kaito or our damn teacher, just tell me who it is!”

“maki.” he lips are chapped, and his voice comes out weakly.

“don’t! don’t talk to me in that tone!” she screeches, “don’t tell me that you’ll tell me later because you’re going to fucking die! you can’t sweet talk me out of this, i’m not some dumb bitch, you’re going to die!”

“maki.”

“stop it!”

“maki, please.”

“why.” her voice switches from manic to quiet in an instant, “why are you  _ doing _ this?”

“...”

“you’re going to die, aren’t you?” she says, her voice faint. “you’re going to die and i’m just going to let it happen, aren’t i?”

“maki-”

“i can’t save you. i won’t… fuck.” she hiccups, holding onto rantaro tighter.

“m-maki…” rantaro inhales, “i’ll... i’ll get it removed. we can go tomorrow.”

“...don’t say that shit if you don’t mean it.”

“i…” rantaro closes his eyes, letting a tear fall down his own face, “i don’t want to die.”

he doesn’t feel like it’s a lie.

_ he doesn’t feel like it’s the truth. _

maki smiles weakly. she opens her mouth to say something, but rantaro notices that kaito is calling her. she sighs, picking up the phone, “hey.” she pauses. “yes, i’m with him right now… i’m  _ just _ bringing him homework, kaito, you don’t- oh, whatever. he’s seeing a doctor. isn’t that more important than this? i’m not fucking lying to you, kaito, he’s actually seeing one. yeah, sure, might as well. i don’t think he cares. look, i’m  _ sorry _ … fine. fine. see you.”

she puts away her phone and stands up, “they’re coming over.”

“e-everyone?”

“yeah.” she curses when she sees the pool of blood, but, after getting approval from rantaro, she puts his duvet over it. “i promise i’ll clean it after. just... neither of us want to deal with that.”

“p-petals…”

“shit, yeah.” she picks them up, putting most of them in the trash. “okay, i think we’re good.” a pause. “goddammit.” 

rantaro hears a knock against his door frame, despite the door being open. he sees kaede first, followed by kaito, shuichi, and kokichi. kaede kneels on the floor next to him, while kaito goes to talk to maki quietly in the background. shuichi and kokichi sit beside him, the former closing the door. rantaro feels kaede stroking his hair, and he can hear shuichi talking. “uhm, hey, rantaro.”

“...”

“so!” kokichi takes over, his voice cheerful, “makito said that she-”

“makito?” maki questions.

  
“new nickname. anyway, before i was rudely interrupted.” he clears his throat, “she said that you were going to see a doctor, and that you were seeing them tomorrow. is that correct.”

rantaro nods, feeling a piercing headache from the motion and wincing. 

“alright! so, we’re not here to lecture you, we just wanted to hang out and make you feel better. can you sit up?”

rantaro tries to sit up, but pain rushes through his entire body. he grits his teeth, moving against the edge of his bed before slumping down. kaede smiles encouragingly, “yay!”

“can you talk?” shuichi asks quietly.

“i-i’m-i’m s-sorry-”

“it’s okay.” shuichi looks at rantaro, his eyes filled with anxiety, “hang in there, alright?”

kokichi scoots next to him and pulls out his phone, “wanna watch a movie or something?”

rantaro nods weakly. he leans against kaede, who had moved to sit on his bed. she pats his head and plays with his hair, braiding strands together. shuichi sits on the other side of him, and rantaro bites his lip to hold back blood. instead, more tears come out.

_ why aren’t kokichi and shuichi sitting together? did i do something wrong? why? why him? why did i have to fall in love with  _ **_him_ ** _? _

“hey,” shuichi taps him on the leg, “are you in pain? is that why you’re crying?”

“...”

kokichi boops him on the nose, setting up a movie for them to watch. “it’s okay, rantaro.” he sounds really, really stressed. rantaro hates that he did that to him.

maki sits behind him, helping kaede with her braiding endeavors and grumbling about them watching the same film  _ again. _ kaito sits next to kokichi, who gets up and sits next to shuichi immediately after, just to mess with the astronaut. rantaro exhales softly, the best he can do as a laugh. kokichi starts the movie, and they all sit and watch, laughing frequently (or trying to) and going on side tangents when a certain topic reminds them of something. it’s peaceful. it’s nice. the event goes on for an hour light-heartedly, before rantaro starts crying again.

_ how many more times am i going to get to experience this? _

kaito stops the video as a group hug initiates. rantaro tries to ignore shuichi’s touch, instead focusing on the cold touch of maki’s hands, and what she whispers in his ear: “it’s going to be okay.”

“whatever is happening,” kokichi starts optimistically, “you can get through it. and then explain what’s going on to us afterwards because oh my god i’m so fucking confused.”

“agreed.” shuichi says. rantaro coughs weakly, but nothing comes out, “we’re here for you…”

“ **we love you.** ”

rantaro cries more, the physical pain disappearing as the mental distress takes over. through the panic, rantaro falls asleep, feeling kaede kiss him lightly on the head as his friends begin to stand.

when he wakes up that morning, he’s alone in his bed with a post it note on his bedside table:

_ today is the day.  _

he feels himself break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha. 
> 
> so. so it's been a bit.
> 
> i'm going to be entirely frank here and just say this: i do not care about this story anymore. in the sense that, like, i am no longer interested in the narrative, or proud of the ending, and good /god/ this is poorly written compared to what i'm actively doing. i'm not super into the primary ships here, and once again, i am half convinced the ending will be a disappointment but i lack any and all energy to fix it
> 
> however,
> 
> i know this story is loved by people! and a long time ago, back when i finished this in february, this story got me through a rough period. so i can't just... entirely cast it out. even though i'm mostly out of v3 brain and really no longer invested.
> 
> depending on how my friend, who i'm consulting for advice, replies, i might just. post the final two chapters today, leave it off here. these chapters are not heavily edited and i apologize for that, it has been months since i even touched this decrepit google doc, but i really do hope that you all can still enjoy it. 
> 
> i might talk a bit more, whenever i put up the final chapter, about what this used to mean to me. for now, enjoy this one. hope you have a lovely day. thank you for bearing with me, here. xx


	6. chapter v: bleeding heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> symbolizes passionate, unconditional love, along with rejected love. 
> 
> all parts of this plant are poisonous.

“hey, rantaro…” shuichi’s voice echoes in rantaro’s head, and the detective opens the door as he speaks, “oh, the door was unlocked. nice... hah.”

“...”

“i got you breakfast.”

“...”

“you’re seeing the doctor today, right?” shuichi sighs, sitting on the bed, “i have no idea what’s happening, but i hope it goes well. maki’s coming with, so she can probably keep us updated. if that’s fine.”

“...”

“are you nervous?” rantaro weakly nods. “yeah. thought so. rantaro, you know this, we’ve told you a thousand times, but if you need anything, let us know, okay?”

“...”

shuichi looks around the room for a moment, and his eyes land on a pool of blood. a different puddle than the one he’s accumulated earlier this week, yet this one has… a lot more blood. “oh my god. that’s... not good. this is not good.”

“...”

“we should hang out after this thing. i have a date with kokichi, but i could cancel-”

“no.”

“...rantaro?”

“don’t cancel.”

“okay. i won’t.”

“we have…” rantaro coughs, and he doesn’t even try to hide the blood that comes up, “all the time in the world…”

“yeah.” shuichi puts his hand on rantaro’s shoulder, and he rubs his thumb soothingly against him. “don’t talk too much, okay? i don’t want you losing too much blood. fuck, this is so… this is so bad.”

“...c-can i-”

“don’t talk. save your energy.”

“...”

rantaro, going off of pure desire that fights off the unbearable pain, hugs shuichi. for a second, the detective stills, but soon after he reciprocates, rubbing circles against his back and running fingers through rantaro’s messy green hair. immediately, rantaro begins crying, collapsing against shuichi’s stability as the detective holds him. “it’s okay, rantaro. whatever is happening, you can get through it. it’ll all be okay.”

“s-sorry-”

“shhh.” shuichi holds him tighter, “it’s okay. you’re okay. i’ve got you.”

rantaro allows himself to stay in that embrace for a long time. even as more tears fall as he reaches his realization, shuichi holds him tightly and comforts him. rantaro knows he’s being an idiot, he knows he’s being dumb…

_but there’s nothing._

there’s nothing without his love for shuichi. without it, before it, he can’t remember. he can’t survive this. he can’t survive without his love for shuichi, but that love is going to get him killed in the end.

“i-i love you…”

“i love you too, rantaro.” rantaro sobs more as shuichi remains oblivious and blind, “we all love you.”

he forces himself to let go. shuichi looks surprised by the abrupt release, but rantaro smiles, and so the detective stands up and leaves. “your appointment is in an hour or so. i’ll... give you some time by yourself. i’ll text you after, alright? we’ll buy you an ice cream.”

“...”

“bye, rantaro.”

“good-” rantaro coughs more blood, another tear falling down his cheek, “goodbye.”

rantaro sits in silence for what feels like forever after shuichi leaves. his mind is split, stuck between what he wants to do and what he should. he can’t get this removed. he can’t. 

_do you want to die?_

...maybe.

rantaro pushes himself off his bed. he reaches in his drawer, moving his hand around before grabbing a present his father gave him years ago: a knife. he hides it in his sweatpants, just in case, and leaves his room. he walks through the school one last time. the warm breeze hits his skin when he steps outside, and he begins to make his way down the hill near the dorms, going far, far away from the place where his friends stay, unaware of what was about to occur.

when he reaches a tree, rantaro collapses on the grass, resting his back against the bark. he weakly shudders as he coughs violently, distinct rose petals and blood falling around him, mocking his pain. still, he smiles. it’s over. it will be soon, anyway.

_how long will it take for everyone to find him?_

well, shuichi is smart. he will find him. rantaro hopes he isn’t the first to discover the body, but he knows that it’s the most likely possibility.

tears burn at the corner of his eyes when he realizes he’s actually dying. he doesn’t want to die, or maybe he does. he just… he doesn’t want to leave kaede and kaito, who are always supportive and kind. he doesn’t want to leave kokichi, his best friend and partner in crime while shuichi (he gags as another petal rises in his throat) watches disapprovingly. he doesn’t want to leave maki, the only person who knew what he was going through, who desperately tried to save him, even though her luck with kaito never rubbed off on rantaro. god, he doesn’t want to leave _shuichi._

he coughs violently, clutching at his bloodstained clothes. maybe he’s suicidal. maybe that’s why he’s doing this. maybe there was something broken in him from the start, and maybe he knew it would end like this. he was never unused to depression, so this could have been bubbling up for years. there’s hardly a point without shuichi, after all. before it was just numbness and coping and existing--

_he’s not going to exist anymore._

goddammit, he’s an idiot. he’s a catalyst. he shouldn’t have been born.

_i love him._

he starts vomiting pure blood, his vision blacking out and his body filling with pain again, but he still keeps reminding himself of his situation, as if his misery can repay the sins. as if he can beg for forgiveness ahead of his death, choose his own casket before the funeral.

_and he doesn’t love me._

the pain overwhelms him so much that he can’t breathe. the end is soon, he knows it, but… god, he wants to stay. why is he doing this? why is he-

his hand twitches towards his pocket, and he gives into his desire. he pulls out his knife, and for a brief second, he considers ending things on his own accord. his hands shake as he considers it- _it’s easier and less painful_ \- but he denies himself the luxury, and instead uses the knife on the tree behind him. with all the force his dying body can muster, he writes _S.S._ into the bark, hoping that it’s legible enough for someone to understand. then, with one last smile on his face, he begins the process.

_i love him._

it hurts so bad.

_i want him to kiss me. on my throat, my neck, my cheek, my lips-_

rantaro bites back a scream when he feels petals starting to break through his skin. a rose begins blooming on his neck; tiny ones appear on his lips. it’s almost beautiful, the blood trickling down his neck, warm and wet.

_shuichi saihara,_

he dry heaves again, forcing a smile on his face as tears pour down his cheeks and he chokes out a sob. when the salty liquid touches the new flowers, he almost feels them grow more. it’s almost over. everything will be over.

_i’m so sorry._

his eyes close.

_i love you._

* * *

_rantaro amami is found that night by kokichi ouma and shuichi saihara. the couple were out on a date when maki harukawa called them, asking them to find rantaro. while kokichi searches, maki tells shuichi about the hanahaki disease. she tells him everything. shuichi knows it’s over when they see a figure resting against the tree. kokichi pulls out a flashlight, and shuichi’s face pales. the green-haired boy was resting in a pool of blood and flower petals, a smile on his face as tears stain his cheeks. a knife rests next to him, and shuichi moves his body gently to the side. when he sees his initials in the tree bark, he falls to his knees. nobody in the city escapes the echoes of shuichi saihara screaming, looking at the corpse of someone he couldn’t save._

rest in peace

rantaro amami

lovesick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i first finished this fic, i had written a long essay about what it had meant to me. in truth, as i detailed in the last chapter, most of my emotions to this fic, and the catharsis i could get from it, are something i find myself indulging in through my other fics, if that makes sense. 
> 
> regardless, this meant something to past me. and i can't disregard that.
> 
> to put my connection in short, a long time ago, i used this fic as a way to cope with experiencing unrequited love, where this specific nuanced experience had worn down at my mental health over the course of approximately two years. 'lovesick' was something i wrote to project many (transparent) struggles: the fear of falling out of love, the experience of the person you love dating a close friend of yours, the fight of not being able to voice what is wrong. 
> 
> and, again. in retrospect, i have some more insight, there. i can identify why this experience was so harmful to me, and it's not something i'm deeply distraught by anymore. in the context of my life, at the moment, there is a lot more going on. and, well, i use fics to cope with that as well.
> 
> if this fic ever had a sequel, by the way, it'd be from maki's point of view. it was something i was considering for a while, but, as you can likely infer... no longer something i am interested in doing.
> 
> this ending is also... arguably unsatisfying. i honestly? no longer like this ending. i think it did wonders for conveying how i felt, but little for articulating an overall point or theme. when i explore the concept of hanahaki now, i tend to just... take it in a different direction. but, the ending, too, used to mean a lot to me. so i won't edit it, or change it, or fuck around much more with this story at all. it's a relic of how i used to feel.
> 
> i'm happy it's over, but i'm happier that it ever happened. 
> 
> sorry for making you sit through my sentimental bullshit. i just figured it was worth saying, that maybe you can get something out of that little piece of sunflower lore. i'm not sure. 
> 
> and finally, thank you to everyone who read this fic, who left comments, who left kudos-- just, everyone. seeing the feedback just an hour ago after not looking at it for so long inspired me to finish this. i'm sorry if it's not to your quality or standards, i know this fic could have been so much more, so much better. but i'm happy you're here, anyway. words cannot express how emotional i get when i realize people care to read my writing. thank you. 
> 
> i love you. if you get anything out of this, don't be a fucking dumbass like rantaro and see a fucking therapist, for god's sake. 
> 
> until next time. xx

**Author's Note:**

> the description and tags will probably change i didn't plan this out very well.
> 
> this fic is something i've been working on for a while and i poured my heart and soul into it. the entire fic is already written, but it's a matter of when me and my beta can get the stuff edited. it's fairly long. so, the fic is probably going to be done end of february and maybe start of march. 
> 
> i hope you like it.


End file.
